


Angel of Small Death & the Codeine Scene

by The_Ghost_King



Series: Hozier Inspired [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Cheating, Fade to Black, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Inspired by a Hozier Song, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Past Tony Stark/Tiberius Stone, Song: Angel of Small Death & the Codeine Scene (Hozier), Title from a Hozier Song, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony's had a few drinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:22:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22091761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ghost_King/pseuds/The_Ghost_King
Summary: Tony isn’t drunk yet but he’s getting there. He can’t wait to get there. He’s been attached to the bar from the moment he walked into this joint. Ordering shot after shot, drink after drink, and the buzz that has overtaken him is a feeling he embraces with wide-open arms. God does he want to be drunk. Fucking hammered. Smashed out of his mind.orshitty ex-boyfriends *cough* Tiberius Stone *cough* are shitty and Loki is Hot™
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Hozier Inspired [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1308455
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Angel of Small Death & the Codeine Scene

**Author's Note:**

> If this is the first fic I publish in 2020 at 0.55 in the morning I guess I'll take it 
> 
> Please enjoy y'all
> 
> [ Angel of Small Death & The Codeine Scene by Hozier ](https://youtu.be/-bmp4QWzHak)

Tony isn’t drunk yet but he’s getting there. By all means not as quickly as he wants, but a man can’t have everything.

He wants, nay, _needs_ to get blackout drunk and forget everything and everyone but that’s easier said than done.

He needs to forget Tiberius, every fucked up aspect of their relationship and finding him buried balls deep in Sunset Bain in _Tony’s_ bed this morning.

He’d trashed the bed and burned the sheets at the start of his drunken rage. Before it was drunken but when it was definitely _rage_. 

Currently it’s mostly drunken.

He’s going on his seventh drink when a man slides in next to him at the bar. He’s gorgeous. Long black hair tied up in a bun with a few loose strands framing an angular face. His eyes are emerald green and the fingers with which he playfully reaches for Tony’s glass are long and spindly. 

The man lifts Tony’s glass to his lips slowly and when he does take a sip time slows even further.

Looking Tony straight in the eyes the man swallows.

Heat starts to simmer low in Tony’s belly.

It’s a bad idea to pursue this, Tony is fully aware, but the lust bubbling low in his stomach doesn’t care.

What’s a little bit of self-destruction on a bad night, right?

“And what’s your name, handsome stranger?” Tony starts, happy to hear that although the man is holding his seventh glass of scotch Tony isn’t slurring. 

The man doesn’t say anything, he just takes another long pull from Tony’s drink and leans into his space. Tony shifts his legs a little. Widens how he’s seated to give himself some more room.

He wishes he wasn’t wearing goddamn skinny jeans, but Ty said he liked them and Tony is impressionable. 

“What’s yours?” the man asks instead of answering, his voice low and smooth. Sliding along Tony’s ears and bouncing around his skull.

Maybe he’s a bit drunker than he thought he was.

“Tony,” he says, leaning forward putting himself into the man’s space.

“Well, Tony,” the man says, reaching over to place a hand on his crotch, fondling him through his jeans. 

Tony gasps.

“I could give you a _very_ nice night. If you let me.”

Tony sits still as the man stands up, staring him straight in the eye.

Some Rhodey shaped part of his mind thinks this is a bad idea. For fuck’s sake, he doesn’t even know the guy’s _name_. Tony’s about to refuse, wants to refuse, knows he should.

The man beckons him with two fingers, makes a simple come hither gesture and looks at Tony with _intent_. It sends a shiver down his spine and Tony’s lost. 

He gets off his barstool and lurches towards the man, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. 

The man is the pied piper and Tony can’t help but follow him outside, through the dark night until he feels the sweet heat of the man’s breath in his mouth.

He’s _alive._


End file.
